Sphere Song
The Isle of Destiny Series Book 4
Tricia O'Malley
Copyright © 2018 by Lovewrite Publishing
All Rights Reserved
Cover Design:
Rebecca Frank Cover Designs
Editor:
Elayne Morgan
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any means without express permission of the author. This includes reprints, excerpts, photocopying, recording, or any future means of reproducing text.
If you would like to do any of the above, please seek permission first by contacting the author at: [email protected]
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Epilogue
Also By Tricia O’Malley: One Tequila
Chapter 1
The Althea Rose Mystery Series
The Mystic Cove Series
The Isle of Destiny Series
The Stolen Dog
Author's Note
“The heart that gives, gathers.”
– Tao Te Ching
Chapter One
“Sister.”
The goddess Danu opened her eyes to see her sister, Domnu, Goddess of the Underworld and leader of the dark fae who were currently wreaking havoc on the peaceful world that Danu oversaw. Danu wondered briefly if it would always be this way – the sibling rivalry – if the years in darkness had led Domnu to become a twisted version of the sister Danu had once known.
“Sister,” Danu said, inclining her head briefly before standing, her shoulders thrown back, her gaze hard as she measured what her sister had become.
Domnu was dark to Danu’s light – no less beautiful, but so very much colder. Where humans would weep in joy at the sight of Danu’s purest form – should she ever allow herself to be fully seen by a human – they would be strangely intoxicated by Domnu’s dark beauty. Her sinuous aura beckoned, promising a sweet ecstasy, but only in exchange for one bite of the apple. If anything, Domnu had become more beautiful with every evil she’d implemented from being a fierce and unrepentant ruler. It was as if Danu were looking at an icicle, with a cold, crystalline beauty and the sharpest of points that could pierce a warm heart without a thought.
They circled each other, each keenly aware of the other’s powers, each unsure of the other’s next move. Held here, in this in-between space relegated to the most powerful of beings, they paced. Seeking truths or seeking power, Danu wondered briefly, but held her tongue, waiting for her sister to explain why she’d sought her out. Not that Domnu had tried a usual route – like sending a messenger. Instead, she’d all but ambushed Danu as Danu had worked to sneak through the middle world to find safe haven in a lighter realm.
Safe haven for the treasures she carried, that is, not for herself.
Distinctly aware that the fate of the world as both her fae and humans knew it rested solely in the treasures she had tucked in a chainmail pouch beneath her cloak, Danu refused to blink, her eyes tracking Domnu’s every move.
“I’m surprised you’d come here – to this in-between place,” Domnu purred, the length of her dark hair seeming to coil and twist of its own accord around her shoulders.
“It’s the only way,” Danu shrugged, not finishing the thought. For Danu to move the treasures to a safer world, she must first pass through the middle realm. One in which many dangers lay, including her sister. Danu had expected it, was prepared for it, and now she waited to see what would happen.
“You’re foolish,” Domnu said, her dark eyes snapping in anger and perhaps even disappointment. Did she think Danu had made it too easy for her? “To risk losing the treasures – to open the doors to my people? I’d almost think you’d planned this, or had a reason behind it. Except you never were that dark – were you? It’s why, when the worlds split, you went to the light and I went to the dark. It was always in me, you see?”
“Yes, I know,” Danu said, somewhat surprised to find that even after all these centuries, it still saddened her. “But there was also good in you. We all have duality, both humans and gods alike. It’s what side you let win.”
“Let win?” Domnu threw her head back and laughed, the sound like a glass shattering in a million pieces on the floor. “I didn’t let it win. I embraced it. Don’t you see, my pretty sister? Nothing is more important than what I want. I chose my destiny and now I will decide yours.”
Danu blocked the first spell Domnu flung at her – not that she’d put much oomph into it anyway. She was testing her strength, trying to see if Danu would use dark magick to protect herself.
Understanding that it was futile, but still wanting to try, Danu sought to appeal to the light still buried deep within Domnu. “Sister, I see the light in you. It’s still there. I know you’ve enjoyed your reign of terror, but this – this curse, these treasures, the future of our worlds? It will change the history of mankind and fae alike. Kingdoms will fall; magickal beings of all kinds will destroy, pillage, and battle. There will be no order, no natural way of being. Even you, my dear sister, will be subject to attack from those wishing to dethrone you. Don’t you understand that to allow this to happen – to force it, even – will unleash utter chaos in all the realms as we know them?” Danu said, her eyes never leaving Domnu’s.
When she saw the spark of madness deep within the dark depths of her sister’s gaze, Danu knew all was lost.
“Chaos breeds change. It’s a necessary evil, and change, my sweet sister, is the only thing we can rely upon,” Domnu said, her smile growing wider, maniacal, against the sharp angles of her face.
“You can choose. To be different, to live differently, to rule differently. None of this is necessary,” Danu said, circling.
“My people would never forgive me. If it isn’t me who leads them to a new world, then it will be another ruler. I refuse to let anyone, even you, stop me,” Domnu hissed, and Danu knew the time for conversation was over. She had a half-second to throw her arms up and block herself from the wave of spells that Domnu began drowning her in.
Lightning bolts flashed. They battled, matching spell for spell, light magick clashing against dark. The skies rumbled and time seemed to stop, held on a gasp of breath, as the world waited for what would come next.
And when Danu fell, the treasures torn from her side, she worke
d the last spell she’d brought with her – the only one that could save them all – and prayed it would do as it was meant. For Domnu planned to take the treasures to the underworld, along with the Seekers themselves.
Danu slitted her eyes open, her energy drained beyond belief, to see Domnu raging as she raced away, dark magick surrounding her as she tried spell after spell to break Danu’s light. When she couldn’t, she turned to scream at Danu.
“If I can’t take them with me, then I’ll lock them away until time runs out and the walls to the worlds crumble. You. Will. Not. Stop. Me!”
Domnu winked from sight and Danu closed her eyes, then worked a spell of light and love, whisking it down to her Seekers along with a prayer.
“I’m sorry, my Seekers. It’s the only way the last treasure can be found…” Danu whispered, her hand clutched to her chest as she watched the women she’d come to admire so much being torn from their beds in the middle of the night and ripped away, the dark magick surrounding them before any had a chance to fight it. Only one protector, Lochlain, was able to put a dent in the spell, and it was enough to track his Seeker. For now, the Na Cosantoir would have to stand once more on their own.
Chapter Two
Clare’s eyes popped open and her breath was all but torn from her as she was pulled – by nothing she could physically see – straight from a shouting Blake’s arms. What had they been doing? Clare shook her head groggily, trying to determine if this was a dream brought on by an overindulgence in wine earlier that evening, or if it was reality. The last thing she remembered was curling into Blake after a particularly passionate night – be it the wine or their mood – and dropping immediately into sleep, spent and satiated.
“Blake,” Clare gasped, a half-whisper, half-shout, as silver Domnua zipped around her at such speed that she could only see a cyclone of silver, her body stuck in the middle, as she was pulled… somewhere. Clare pivoted to lash out, to fight, to do anything, but it was as if the Domnua were holograms and her fists kept sliding through a silver wall into nothingness.
A piercing shriek of curses shattered the wall, the Domnua breaking into pieces like a wine glass shattering on the floor, and Clare was left kneeling on cold, damp stones. Lifting her gaze, she gasped at the woman who stood before her.
Impossibly beautiful but so very cold, her dark hair raged around a face made of edges and eyes made of ice. Clare knew instantly that this was Danu’s long-lost sister, and the one who had sent her minions to try and kill Clare when she was seeking the stone. Refusing to bow before this cruel mistress, Clare jumped to her feet, grateful that she’d pulled a thin t-shirt over her head before sleep. Holding her hands up in front of her in a classic boxer’s pose, she said nothing.
Domnu threw her head back and laughed, her hair twining about her shoulders and bouncing with laughter as well.
“You humans never cease to amaze me with your sheer stupidity.” Domnu’s voice, a whiskey-soaked razor blade, cut through Clare.
“I’d be saying it’s more stupid to kneel before an adversary than it is to stand and ready myself for battle, no?” Clare asked, causing Domnu to laugh once more.
“Aye, the lot of you – stupid to the core. It’s why I need to bring my people forward and shake this world arse over end,” Domnu muttered.
“What do you want with me?” Clare asked, since it seemed Domnu was in a chatty mood, and she’d clearly not brought Clare here just to kill her. If she’d wanted Clare dead, she’d be dead by now.
“What I want is nothing of your concern, as for now you’ll do as I say,” Domnu hissed, pacing, which gave Clare a chance to look about the room. It seemed they were in a rounded tower of sorts, much like an old castle lookout tower. With only a few little slits for windows, the tower room was empty but for herself and Domnu.
“Isn’t doing what you say the same as doing what you want?” Clare asked.
Domnu’s eyes narrowed. She raised her hand, which shook visibly, and clenched her fist once before lowering it again.
“No, because if I had what I wanted, you’d be in the underworld with me, along with the treasures,” Domnu said, her voice mocking as she began to pace the room.
Ah, Clare thought, now who was the stupid one? Domnu had just revealed to Clare that she had a bigger plan, but something was stopping the goddess from fulfilling her agenda. And the only thing that could thwart power of that level was a magick spell leveled by another goddess. Sending up a quick prayer of thanks to Danu, Clare leaned back against the wall and crossed her arms, pretending a pose of nonchalance.
“Danu stopping you, huh? Must be tough having a sister who’s stronger than you,” Clare said – but when Domnu zipped across the room and lifted her by her throat, she immediately regretted pushing the dark goddess too far. When would she learn not to speak every thought that entered her head?
“If my sister was more powerful than I, she would have the treasures. Instead, I have them. And you, and your precious stone, will be left here to die,” Domnu hissed, enunciating every word carefully, her eyes sparking in rage as she held Clare suspended in the air. Shaking her once more, Domnu dropped her to the floor; Clare barely caught herself from falling as she gasped for air.
Domnu laid a pouch on the floor in the middle of the room. “Here. It’s yours, Seeker. Too bad it is of little use to you now. Your final days will be stuck in this room, with your magickal little stone, until the time has run out on the curse – until the walls crumble, and the Domnua once again rule the earth.”
Clare gaped at her, but the room was empty. As quickly as she’d come, she’d disappeared, leaving Clare to run and grab the pouch from the floor. Holding it, she turned in a full circle, her eyes scanning every possible part of the room for any escape. Aside from the slits that allowed small shafts of light to penetrate the darkness, there was no exit.
She was officially stuck.
“Shite,” Clare whispered, shivering as the cool damp began to seep through the thin cotton of her shirt. Pulling out the stone, she moved across the room to sit, tucking as much of the t-shirt below her bum as she could.
“I really need you right now. I need you to work for me,” Clare said to the stone, holding it up to her face. “I believe in you and your magick, I pulled you from my heart. And for now, I just need you to keep me warm and send out your magickal vibe. Please. I know you needed to remain hidden until I found you, but I did find you. I fought for you and for the lives of everyone in this world. I fought for the light. Please, I beg of you, show me your warmth. Send word to Blake. Send up the Batsignal. Something,” Clare begged, and held the stone to her heart once more. “I believe in you.”
Tears blinked into her eyes when the stone began to hum, a comforting glow emanating from deep within its core, and warmth surrounded her.
“Thank you,” Clare whispered, bringing it to her lips for a kiss. “Thank the goddess Danu. For I will survive to see the good win this battle. Blake, my love… come for me. I won’t die on you.”
Tightening her hands around the stone, Clare concentrated all her mental energy on Blake – her love and her life – and closed her eyes.
“I won’t die this day. I’m here. Find me, Blake. Find me.”
Chapter Three
Neala O’Riordan met her opponent’s gaze across the worn wood table of the cozy corner pub tucked down a narrow street in Kilkenny.
“Aye, let’s see it, Jack. You’ve been talking a big game for ages now. I’m growing a wee bit tired of all the talk but no action.”
The youth, barely eighteen if he was a day, raised his chin at Neala.
“That’s ’cause I was giving ye a chance to bow out, what with you being a lady and all,” Jack said, and the regulars huddled around the table burst into laughter. It was well known that while Neala was indeed a lady, she was the type of lady who would cuss a man out with a nice turn of phrase while holding a knife to his throat should he ever get too fresh.
Or, in this case, that she c
ould down a pint of Guinness faster than any man between Kilkenny and Dublin.
“Ahhh, don’t be doing me any favors, son,” Neala chuckled, shaking her mass of auburn hair back over her shoulders. “We’ll meet on this battleground fairly.”
Jack, encouraged by the razzing of the lads in the pub, straightened his shoulders and nodding, raising his pint before him. Neala winked at his friends and then, matching his pose, raised her own.
“Sláinte,” Neala said, and laughed when Jack sputtered, his pint but half-finished while Neala’s now sat empty in front of her as she primly wiped her full lips.
“But… but…” Jack said, a thick line of foam from the Guinness hanging over his top lip.
“That’ll teach you to underestimate your opponents – lady or no,” Neala said, holding her hand out. “Now, pay up.”
“But… but…” Jack just looked back from his pint to her empty glass, as his mates thumped him on the shoulder and guffawed around him. Neala quickly summed up that he didn’t have the money to pay for his bet. However, knowing that Irish pride demanded a bet be honored, she leaned forward and dropped her voice low.
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